When the two of them meet, only in their dreams.
Every time, a different location.
Every night, a little more is learned.
Without knowing their true identities.
Park Jimin has much more to worry about rather than silly dreams. Bangtan's name has...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
10:37 pm
p.j.m.
Cold water runs down my throat, quenching the dying thirst in my mouth.
"Hyung, aren't you going to head back?" Taehyung asks, a towel draped over his shoulder as he looks at me with concern.
"I'll head home soon," I tell him, wiping my mouth I place the water bottle back down onto the floor. The plastic bottle crunches as I let go of it, unfurling after my hands had grasped it so tightly.
What am I doing wrong?
". . . Just going to practice a bit more. There's this one part of the choreography that I can't get down. . .,"
Hoseok hyung laughs weakly.
"Jimin-ah, you're already doing great. Come on, there's always tomorrow,"
"That's what you always say, hyung,"
Hoseok looks down at the floor, watching my feet as I begin the dance again.
"Ok then . . . but don't be down here to late," Hoseok warily agrees, his footsteps already becoming fainter as he steps towards the door. "You can't be staying here later than all of us again, or I'll have to come back to get you,"
"Thanks, hyung. Have a good night," I call out, voice cracking as I speak while trying to dance.
I hear the door swing open.
But it doesn't close.
Hyung stands there for a while. I glance at his reflection in the mirror in front of me, just standing in the doorway. But after a moment or so, he leaves too.
Sweat runs down my neck as I repeat the same movement again and again, faintly singing along with the part in an attempt to get the timing right.
I'm so sick of this . . .
A few minutes morphs into an hour.
I wobble on my feet as I take another sip of water, finally giving in to the sleep in my head. Walking over to the side of the practice room, my feet give away, back sliding down the wall as I hit the floor.
Sitting against the wall, I glance up at the blank canvas ceiling through drooping eyelids.
Feels oddly familiar
Just a few minutes . . .
I wouldn't make it back tonight.
Sorry, hyung.
Closing my eyes, the sweat coating my skin causes the air to seem cooler than it really is.
Lyrics from our song replay in my head over and over again as I drift off to sleep.
fake love
fake love
fake love
---
.
.
---
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
